


Jogging at Dawn

by Naughty_Yorick



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Modern AU, Romance, everyone is jogging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-02 17:42:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4068802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naughty_Yorick/pseuds/Naughty_Yorick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime Lannister decides to sort his life out and takes up jogging. Brienne wonders what happened to that weird drunk guy she used to run past every morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Bench

**Author's Note:**

> Started off as a quick drabble based on a tumblr AU but it quickly got away from me and became something else entirely.

The first time he saw her jogging it was at the crack of dawn, the sky melting into a pale blue and the first birds twittering madly at each other from the twiggy tree-tops.  
He was drunk, slouched uncomfortably on the wooden park bench where he and his sister had, only a couple of months ago, sat arm in arm as they watched the world go by.  
Back then, he would have pointed her out, the great hulking woman jogging past. But now the thud thud of her footsteps only made him wince, clutching his head.

He was completely alone. His father dead, his brother vanished and his sister…she wouldn’t even look at him anymore. He knew his unpleasant past had made him somewhat of an outcast amongst those who he thought were his friends, or at least allies, but he had never realised just how absolute his seclusion was.

As the giantess stomped away, he peered out between the cracks of his fingers to watch her as she scattered pigeons in her wake.

The second time was much like the first. That godforsaken bench, his head pounding and his eyes blurred, waiting for the alcoholic daze to pass before he could will himself to go back to his flat.

There she was. This time, she looked down at him as she jogged past. He barely noticed; his eyes once again locked behind his hands.

It went on for almost two weeks. There he was, there she went. The same bench, the same time, probably the same damned birds tweeting from the tree-tops.  
Once, she smiled at him. 

_Stupid ugly wench._ The thoughts drifted across his mind like an oil slick across a shore. He wondered what Cersei would have said. In fact – no. He didn’t need to wonder. He knew.

Suddenly, bile rose in the back of his throat and before he knew what was going on he was retching over the side of the bench, tears streaming down his face.  
He didn’t even hear her footsteps stop. She watched, only for a few drawn out seconds. She wavered, wondering if she should do something. Then he looked up. Bile and spit and snot staining his face and tangling in his unkempt beard, his chest rising and falling in quick, breathless pants.

She looked him dead in the eyes, just for a moment. His expression was defeated, blank. And then a sneer – and she blanched and was gone like a shot, jogging away like a frightened animal.

_Gods,_ he thought. _She has astounding eyes._

When the sun finally rose, he was lying on his back across the bench. His good hand reached up and scratched at the stuff clogged in his beard. 

_No._ He thought. _No. Fuck this. I’m Jaime fucking Lannister._

Unsteadily, he swung his legs from the bench and got up to his feet. A wave of dizziness hit him but he stumbled forwards, forcing himself to stay conscious.  


_No more._

The first thing he did was buy a pair of running shoes. The second thing he did was call his sister. The third thing he did was cut all his hair off.

On the way to the barbers, he threw his mobile in the bin.

He started slow, got himself a gym pass and started jogging every other day. He wondered how he’d let himself go so much as he panted around the circumference of the park, sweat clogging in his skin and making him itch.

A couple of times he wondered about the giant woman. He wondered if she thought of him.

When he finally went back to work nearly three months later, he was forced to change the routine. His mid-afternoon jogs were replaced with board meetings. When he made the decision to start jogging before work, at just gone five every morning, he’d completely forgotten about the giant woman.

The first Monday he started round the park, he could only think of what a horrible decision this had been. His brother, wherever he was, would have laughed at him if he could see him in his stupid running shorts, sprinting around an abandoned park before the sun had even risen. As he jogged, his feet rhythmically pounding against the concrete, he wondered where Tryion was. He missed the little shit, no matter what rumours were flying around about the reasons behind his disappearance. He missed him more than he wanted to admit. Even though Jaime had managed to drag his way back into shape and away from the liquor bottles now stashed safety in the bin behind his flat, he’d never managed to quite bring back his social standing.

He was just as lonely as before – perhaps even more so. His time at work and exposure to who he saw as “real people” reminded him just how much he was missing out on.

He was so preoccupied with this train of thought that he didn’t even notice her until he had jogged right into her chest.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!”

He snapped back to life. 

“It’s you!”

“Excuse me?”

The giant woman looked down at him. She raised a single eyebrow, waiting for a response. She was only a couple of inches taller than him but it was enough to sufficiently bruise his ego. He raised himself to his full height but suddenly found himself lost for words.

“Uh …”

“Wait…” She peered closer at him, “I do know you. You’re that drunk guy. I thought you were…thought you must be-”

She cut herself off before finishing the sentence.

“The name’s Jaime. Thought I was what?”

There was an uncomfortable silence. They stared each other down for a moment. She clearly wasn’t going to finish the sentence. He wanted to posture at her, accuse her of besmirching his name…but realised it was all rather futile.

He sighed. “Yeah, well. Me too.”

She looked for a moment as if she was going to place a hand on his shoulder, or say something comforting. But she decided against it, stepped out of his way.

“Well,” she said, “I better get going. I’ll uh…I’ll see you around”

And with that, off she went again. He watched her, curiously, then a thought struck him.

“Wait!”

“What?” 

“What’s your name?”

She span on the spot, jogging a few steps backwards.

“Why?”

“You know my name!”

“And I also know what colour your vomit is. What’s your point?”

He courteously decided to ignore the jab and ploughed on.

“Come on, it’s just a name!”

She turned back around, continuing her jog away from him. He suddenly felt very desperate.

“What’s your name, _wench?_ ” 

She stopped that time, shock and amusement mingling on her face.

“…What did you call me?”

“You mean that's not your name?”

She shook her head, laughing. Her eyes twinkled, then she turned away for the last time.

Jaime yelled after her. 

“See you tomorrow, Wench!”


	2. Animal Reflexes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime gets an unexpected greeting from the giant woman.

He didn’t see her the next day. Or the next.  
In fact, he didn’t see the giantess again for a full week, until he spotted her out of the corner of his eye jogging across the field on the other side of the park.  
He grinned, then altered his path. As he approached her from behind, he noticed the blue earphones plugged into her ears. He’d never noticed her wearing earphones before, and briefly wondered what she was listening to. He wondered if they shared a similar taste in music.  
He spurred himself on a little until they were nearly jogging shoulder to shoulder, then called out –  
“I almost thought you were avoiding me”  
He expected her to turn around, give him that half-amused, half-annoyed grin that she’d gifted him with when they last met. He expected – or perhaps hoped – that she’d be shocked to see him, pleased, ready to admit how much she’d been thinking about him…  
What he was not expecting was for his newly acquired jogging partner to swing around without a moment’s thought or hesitation and to deck him squarely on the jaw.  
“Jesus, fuck!” Jaime spluttered as he tumbled to the floor.  
The punch seemed to have shocked her as much as it had him - when she realised who it was lying on the ground at her feet, her blue eyes widened and her moth opened into a perfect “o” of surprise.  
“Oh Gods, Jaime” she said, bending down, “I’m so sorry!”  
She grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet, where he stood, half-dazed.  
“What the hell was that?!”  
She fumbled for words for a moment, embarrassed, as he continued on.  
“Is this because I called you a wench? Because if it is, just tell me your goddamn na…”  
“No! It’s not…it’s not you”  
“Then what?!”  
She paled, her breath catching in her throat. She blushed, the blotchy redness spreading across her cheeks. Jaime wanted to chastise her, continue to berate her, but the look in her eyes –  
“Look. Do you wanna go get a cup of coffee?”

*

Jaime held the door of the coffee open for the mystery jogger, who raised her eyebrows at him in silent indignation but entered anyway. He swayed up to the counter and called over his shoulder.  
“So what do you want? On me.”  
She scrutinised him, searching for an ulterior motive. “Just a black coffee, thanks”  
Jaime lent on the counter and eyed up the pretty girl behind the till, who giggled at him sweetly.  
“What’ll it be, sir?”  
“I’ll take a black coffee, and…a non-fat late with caramel, please”  
“Sure thing”  
She rang up the order and took Jaime’s card, then grabbed a couple of cups.  
“Name?”  
Jaime flashed her one of his heart-stopping grins “Jaime, and –”  
He turned around. “Looks like you’re gonna have to tell me your name…”  
She’d gone. He looked around, mildly panicked, then saw her sitting in a booth near the window. He relaxed as she peered up at him. She raised her eyebrows and gave him the subtlest nod, gesturing over his shoulder. He turned back to the counter. The pretty girl was waiting for him, smiling.  
“Well?”  
“Er…Jaime on both of them”

*

A few minutes later, drinks in hand, he sauntered over to where the giantess was sitting in the booth. He passed her the coffee then peered down at his own, reading the name  
“J, a, m, i, e” He read, sighing, “they always spell it wrong”  
He looked up over the rim off the cup, with a smile. “So. Tell me. Why’d you decide to break my jaw?”  
“I did not – your jaw is fine. I’m not that strong.”  
“No one’s floored me like that since college. I’d say you’re pretty strong”  
She smiled, a little smugly, and took a long sip of her coffee.  
“So will you tell me?”  
She sighed, putting the cup down on the table in front of her. She reached for the little packets of sugar at the edge of the booth, pulling a few towards her and fiddling with them.  
“It’s stupid”  
“If it’s so stupid, you won’t mind telling me”  
“Fine! Fine. The day after I…after you ran into me, I was doing my normal route and went past this group of guys. Just…stupid college grads that hadn’t moved on. I was just doing my thing, you know, and…”  
She trailed off, the sugar packet crumpling under her fingers. Jaime watched her, unsure of what to say.  
She sighed again, dropped the sachet on the table and finally looked up at him.  
“They started yelling at me. Stupid stuff, you know. Petty. You can…you can guess what they were saying. I ignored them, but they were there again that afternoon. Then the next day. Yelling, shouting, jeering.”  
“Shit…” Jaime murmured.  
“Yeah. Worst thing, the third day – I recognised one of them. An ex boyfriend. It’s…it’s a long story. He’s a shit. He was the one egging them on. Of course he fucking was. And I wasn’t gonna stop running just because of some stupid…some stupid boys…so I started wearing headphones when I jogged. Tune them out. It’s not been…the most effective method.”  
“So when you punched me…”  
“I thought you were one of them, yeah. I reacted before I could think. I’d had enough of them.”  
Jaime couldn’t help but laugh, quick and hollow. The woman frowned.  
“What?” She demanded.  
“No – I’m not laughing at you. I’m impressed.”  
She raised her eyebrows.  
“Seriously! That takes some guts. And the reflexes of a lion.”  
She smiled. “Well, thanks. I guess.”  
She looked into the cup, swirled the rest of the coffee around, then downed it.  
“Look, I should go,” She said, standing up. “I really am sorry about punching you.”  
Jaime grinned, mischievously. “You could make it up to me by staying longer, you know”  
She blushed again, the unflattering colour staining her cheeks.  
“N…No, I really can’t. But I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? And I’ll try not to punch you”  
She walked away from the booth and headed towards the door. He suddenly shot up, and called after her.  
“You could at least tell me your name!”  
She grinned at him. Her eyes twinkled. He remembered, back when he’d been stuck on that godforsaken bench, noticing how blue her eyes were. They really were astounding.  
“See you tomorrow, Jaime. And thanks for the coffee.”


End file.
